Pairing: Jack/Will
Rating: er…pg13? R?
Updated: 11.4.3
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine and I'm not trying to sell it.
Notes: originally for contrelamontre's quote challenge.


By Kanzeyori

I don't want it stirred by the heat of the sun.
- Robert Frost, 'Good Bye and Keep Cold'

It's all a tangle. Like hair, knotted Jack’s back to the wall twist and frayed him with a look steady eyed narrowed lampblack lined Jack up against him, who asks,

“Need—” yes you, take a gasp, and he gasps too, so close Will is taking and stealing his breath what Jack cupping 'round,

“—a hand?” it’s too close, Will pulls away and Jack presses in, speaks low into Will’s cheekbone,

“Trust me,” with nothing but heat.

Jack possesses him, cadenced by the sea and the sway of the lanterns from the rafters, to the rock of the ship; tells him stories of the lady ship he'd also possessed. Tells him stories of a blacksmith and a lady fair, beautiful children and his own smithy, and Will knows he is saying: this will not last. Except Will is needed, in this short surreal space where they insist, Jack and the sea and his blood and the ship, that he is a pirate. And, in this space that they've made, he accepts.

They reach Tortuga.

Will see the whores and they don’t compare to Elizabeth. They don’t even compare to Jack. Who settles amoung them like a flame alights, belonging and setting afire all at once, trailing the smells of brimstone and rot. Will stands with tense ease, but feels the regard of Jack's eyes. So he awaits, with assurance, the night, which means him no harm, until he hears the word,


And Will senses his name in the air. He sees red like iron heated, with a hot clarity, relooks at stories told in half-light and he tells himself that his blood remain true, untainted by the lure of a pirate's betrayal, of his father and Jack's stories both. He tells himself this and yet as they leave for the night with Jack's eyes heavy promised, he still, still, feels an unwitting draw, like a hammer, downward.

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